Drugs are the fucking devil but the coolest friend ever. A dangerous psycho bitch, but a therapist of sorts. It’s both terrible and great. Until you find yourself gasping for breathe because you’ve fucked with it for so long. I saw my whole life at that point, I saw who I used to be and came back to this shell of a human. Drugs killed a lot of me, but it helped me find myself as well. I see things a little clearer, I look deeper into people because I wish someone had just saw me instead of just seeing a junkie.

It sucks when you’re so hurt that you have to be high, drunk or on drugs, so you can get on a higher level then the rest of the world just to smile. That’s what’s fucked up.

I never thought I would snort crystal meth. I never expected to smoke it either. I never thought I would know what kind syringes I would need. I never thought this is what would become of me.

Once the needle goes in, it never comes out.

“it’s what’s inside that makes you beautiful”

*feels uncomfortable emotion*

not all crackheads have fucked up teeth not all meth heads pick at their face not all heroin addicts have track marks not all potheads are lazy not all pill users rob people not all alcoholics are violent

Going through the reblogs and wondering why… Fuck it. I guess I gotta really become a stone cold hearted person to be sober. No, fuck that. Listen up, all you mother fuckers who think it’s your place to tell an addict who, why or what they should feel hurt, happy, guilt or pain for having done, said, used or whatever the fuck you all think you’re entitled to just because you don’t suffer from the SCIENTIFICALLY PROVEN MENTAL DISEASE that is drug addiction. One more fucking cunt tells me “You should feel bad for using because you hurt people” I never hurt anyone. All the nonaddicts I’m my life felt hurt because I lied about using and they felt deceived when they found out. That’s not something I need to be remorseful about. Everyone keeps shit to themselves, when it’s THEIR BUSINESS. Bunch of social media Starbucks gossip addicted entities that are hurting WAY MORE PEOPLE by spreading their malicious self-righteous vindications. Feel free to address to anonymous asks to The dirty drug addict C/O www.methodicalmethematics.tumblr.com

No, you won’t get addicted the first time you use a drug, but all wildfires start some where small and gradually build up. It spreads so fast, you don’t even notice the damage done and then you realize, there’s something about sobriety that just doesn’t appeal to you anymore. So you continue to let the fire burn every tree you once planted in your mind that was so full of life, now just the ashy grey remains containing your only peace of mind.

Maybe there’s a chance that you could shoot-up heroin just once, and experience the unprecedented bliss of heroin, a feeling which I think is a profound part of the human experience. Part of me believes that people ought to know what an IV heroin high feels like. I can’t justify it, really. I guess I believe that something that feels so unique and so, so good, deserves to be felt. Heroin ought to be experienced. I don’t know. Here’s the thing. Once you feel that feeling, if even one time, it cuts you so fucking deep that there is no turning back. It’d be like giving a blind man sight for just a moment, and then telling him to walk around for the rest of his life with a new knowledge of what he lacks. Once you know junk, it pulls your soul in that direction like a muslim to Mecca. It wounds you. IV heroin is like coming in from the cold to a warmth you never knew you lacked. Does that make sense? It’s like you’re born, and you need food for hunger, drink for thirst, warmth for cold, love for loneliness, and you get all of these things to sate your body and soul, and you’re a complete person. You’ve got everything you need and there are no loose ends. So then you take a shot of heroin and all of the sudden you have this new need. All of the sudden you’re lacking this’ something, and you walk around with half a fucking soul. Opiates put a cold in your bones that can’t be alleviated with the use of anything else. You’re out to a good meal, and your belly is full of expensive food. You’re still lacking. It’s Christmas morning and you’re surrounded by love and comfort. You’re still lacking. You fall asleep in the arms of the girl of your dreams, and you wake up to her on a Saturday morning. You’re still lacking. You work your balls off for that big sale and payday comes. Lacking. You lead an existence of hunger, cold, and want. It’s what I imagine an old widower feels like when his lifelong sweetheart passes away. There’s a part of you missing. If you want to experience shooting heroin, you’ll walk around for the rest of your life with a loose-end that can never, ever be tied up. It’s a splinter in your soul,man.

I met God through a needle, now he won’t let me go.

Why smoke it & waste it, when you can shoot it & taste it?

you called yourself the Devil as you pushed the needle into my veins, but in my eyes, you were like God, because you took away all of my pain.

Shoutout to Virtuous Addicts